


Perfect Imperfection

by electroswings



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a drunken marriage proposal is very on-brand for dandelion let's be honest, they love each other your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electroswings/pseuds/electroswings
Summary: "Dandelion," she murmured softly. The bard twitched awake at the sound of her voice, so close to dropping off into sleep again. "Did you mean what you said last night?""You'll have to jog my memory, darling, everything's a bit fuzzy around the edges."
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Priscilla
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	Perfect Imperfection

Dandelion woke slowly and noticed three things in quick succession: One, the sun was disgustingly bright and was shining directly into his eyes. Two, his head was pounding like a dwarven hammer on steel. Three, there was a pair of soft lips pressing gently on the back of his neck. He'd gladly put up with the first two things if it meant the third would keep doing what they were doing. The poet hummed quietly in greeting and then rolled over with some effort to face his bed partner, slinging an arm around a slim waist.

"Good morning," he rasped, tucking his head under Priscilla's chin with a contented sigh. Priscilla smiled and folded her arms around him, one hand stroking his shoulders while the other went to work in his hair. 

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" 

"How much did I drink last night?" Dandelion grunted in reply.

"You and Zoltan finished two bottles of Toussaint Red and a stein each of Mahakaman mead before we went to bed." That would explain the headache, then. Dandelion sighed against the fair column of Priscilla's neck, the warm exhale making her shiver.

"I slept terribly in that case. Can't believe I drank that much." Priscilla pressed a kiss into Dandelion's hair.

"I can bring you some water if you'd like." Dandelion shook his head and tightened his hold on Priscilla's waist, his hand disappearing up her night shirt to press flat against her back.

"You're comfortable. Also, I think my head might burst if I move too much." Priscilla huffed a laugh and they both fell silent, listening as Novigrad woke up beyond the window. Radiant sunlight poured into the room, bathing everything in hues of peach and gold. Nimble fingers calloused from years of strumming lute strings trailed gently up and down the ditch of Dandelion's spine, the bard practically melting into her arms. Priscilla chewed nervously on her bottom lip before glancing down at the mop of brown hair under her chin.

"Dandelion," she murmured softly. The bard twitched awake at the sound of her voice, so close to dropping off into sleep again. "Did you mean what you said last night?"  
"You'll have to jog my memory, darling, everything's a bit fuzzy around the edges." 

"You said....well, you said you were going to marry me." Dandelion's eyes shot open and he tensed in Priscilla's arms. Priscilla herself was a rigid line of apprehension, her hand going still in the bard's hair. "I don't expect you to remember most of last night, but I was hoping you'd remember that, at least." 

Dandelion groaned miserably and rolled out of Priscilla's embrace, covering his face with his hands and missing the wounded look that passed over the trobairitz's face like a storm cloud. Memories were starting to trickle back in, of Priscilla helping him up the stairs into his room, sitting him on the bed and slipping off his shoes. "I'm going to marry you, sweet dove," he remembered slurring drunkenly, his expression unbearably fond and heart fit to bursting with affection. 

"If you didn't mean it, or don't want to, I-" Priscilla continued, stopping when Dandelion uncovered his face with a gasp.

"No! That's not true at all!" He turned back to face her, taking her hands in his. Priscilla's blue eyes were wide with surprise, a light flush blooming on her cheeks. Dandelion pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her fingers. "Priscilla, dear heart, I would love nothing more than to wed you in front of the whole Continent. You're my muse, my musical partner, my equal. You deserve a marriage proposal worthy of the greatest ballad, with feasting and wine and dancing under the stars, not a drunken proposition above a cabaret in Novigrad." Priscilla laughed wetly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Gently she pulled her left hand out of his grip and cupped his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"Feasting and dancing does sound nice, but this right here? Lying in bed with you, it's all I want. It's perfect." Dandelion's blue eyes glistened back at her as a tremulous smile spread across his face. 

"I love you," he whispered, the smooth tones of his voice thick with emotion. Closing the gap between them, he pressed his forehead against hers, breathing in the scent of her lemon hair oil, the clean scent of her skin. Priscilla's breath hitched softly in her throat. "Marry me?" 

And as Priscilla brought their lips together in a bruising kiss, Dandelion noticed three things in quick succession: One, his marriage proposal hadn't gone even remotely how he had spent years imagining it. Two, that he didn't much care. And three - that Priscilla was right. It was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is, my first Witcher fic. I'll bet everyone was expecting my first foray into the Witcher fandom to be about Geralt/Jaskier lol. I have a couple things in mind, but I absolutely fell in love with Priscilla/Dandelion when I played W3 for the first time last year. I wanted to see them be sappy idiots in love, and so I wrote this. I might add on to it with a few other snippets I've had bumping around in my head. :)
> 
> I'm on Twitter! lokichan2004


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